Dear Diary
by distraught.hallelujah
Summary: The entries in the unassuming diary left by a little girl who supposedly died years ago in a house fire explains her crush on the Sand Village Jinchuriki. Now, Lord Gaara the Kazekage finds himself with the very same book in his hands and only just able to finish reading the heartbreaking story.


The Kazekage stood in the light of the window, a small tattered book in his hands. His green eyes were glued to the pages as they slowly scanned the paper, across which the childish scrawl ran. His hand gripped the spine tightly as his eyes moved to stare distractedly out of the window. The book had been found in the remains of a house that had burned down a long time ago, and the Village Hidden in Sand had only just gotten around to clearing away the rubble to make way for a new building. The book was a diary of a little girl.

Gaara looked back down at the book in his hands. A secret admirer, all this time, or he used to have one, anyway. He had heard that no one had survived the fire. It was so dry that the fire flared up out of nowhere and the house was burned to a crisp within a few minutes. The diary, Gaara felt, was a piece of that girl's soul. He had had no idea, and it hurt him that he couldn't remember this girl.

* * *

Dear Diary;

Today it happened again. It annoys me no end. I can't tell if someone is just trying to be funny or what, but that _boy_ pronounced my name wrong _again_. My name is _B-E-H_, pronounced like 'bay.' He keeps calling me 'Beh' like 'meh.' I hate that double-dratted scoundrel. Oh, but that's not the least of my worries. Today, in school, I saw the cutest boy. His name is Gaara. People don't like him because he's a little weird and he has no eyebrows, but I don't care. He's so cute! He has coppery-colored hair and really pretty greenish eyes. He also has really dark rings around his eyes, like he hasn't slept in a while, the poor thing. I still like him, though. I'd let him sleep on my lap any day!

* * *

Gaara hadn't ever thought of a girl watching him from afar. At this time, he had been a little boy, before his… uncle had died. He remembered those days he'd spend sitting by himself, all of the sleepless nights, but he had never noticed eager little eyes watching him with adoration, with awe. If he had, he may have felt better about being so alone. It may have been more enjoyable.

He turned the page. The next entry was somewhat disappointing, and somehow he knew that he should've seen in coming. As he got to the end of the entry, however, he felt differently, and felt a swell of gratitude for this brave little admirer.

* * *

Dear Diary;

My mom says to stay away from Gaara. I don't understand. He's sweet, he's really nice, and he's really cute, but mommy says he's dangerous. I don't get it all. Maybe it's just because I'm a little girl. Anyway, today I totally ignored mom and I left a little present for him on his doorstep. It says 'from your secret admirer' on it. Oh, I feel so giddy! I hope he gets it. I really want him to like me.

Dear Diary…

I guess he got it, because it wasn't there the next day, but I haven't noticed him acting any different. I'd hoped that would make him feel better. I sent him sweets I made myself with mommy – I told her I was giving them to that boy who keeps saying my name wrong just to annoy me, and she believed me. I hope he liked them, if he did get them. I wonder if he likes candy. Maybe he doesn't. Should I try something else instead? Maybe he likes candied beans. I should try that next time. Yeah! I'll try that!

* * *

A small smile tugged at the corners of Gaara's lips. He had, of course, never gotten anything like that or even anything unlike that, but it was a nice feeling to know that someone had been thinking of you. He wondered what had happened to that little girl. She must have died in the fire, he supposed. His fingers tightened around the book once more. It was in poor condition and his clenching and unclenching only made it worse, but he felt more apologetic than he could describe. If only he had known, maybe it would've turned out different. His eyes moved to the next entry.

* * *

Dear Diary;

I don't know how to make candied beans. I just figured that out when I burned myself trying to cook the beans. Maybe you're not supposed to cook them. Mommy asked what I had been doing when I burned myself, so I told her I was trying to cook her dinner. She said I was a good girl and hugged me, and now I feel guilty.

Gaara was shunned today. I was walking by with mommy, so I couldn't do anything about it, but I wish I could stomp over there and hit those stupid kids! Gaara is amazing, I wanted to shout. I love Gaara! Then again, I'd probably faint before the words came out. Gaara would be looking at me, his green eyes wide with surprise, and I would just faint. Oh, well. It's still a nice thing to think about.

DD;

Oh! So today I went out and I found candied beans for sale! I bought them with my allowance, I had just enough, and I made a bow out of my favorite hair ribbon and put that on top. It looked so pretty! I just got back from his house, where I left them on his bedroom windowsill because I was thinking maybe he didn't get the candy I sent earlier because it was on the porch. Maybe someone else took it. I sure hope he gets the beans, and I really hope he likes them!

Dear Diary;

It's been three days, but there's still no change in the subject. The candied beans disappeared along with my hair ribbon, but Gaara hasn't even begun to stare at girls curiously as they pass by. I wonder if he ever notices me. I guess I'm really good at sneaking around, because I can watch him for hours and follow him around without him noticing! It's exciting, and I'm still waiting, but I guess maybe they were stolen by fairies like the last box. Was it fairies with sweet teeth or kitchen goblins that made off with Gaara's candy? I wonder where they took it.

* * *

Ah, yes. Girls at that age did believe in fairies. Gaara shook his head. The way the diary showed the little girl's childish innocence appealed to him, and the way she talked about him made him feel warm inside. He wished she was here so that, somehow, he could find her; but as far as he knew, there had been no survivors. He still kept wondering about her name, though: Beh. What a strange name. He had never heard anything like that before. His eyes went back to the diary, to the very last entry.

* * *

I can't breathe. There's smoke everywhere, and I don't think I'll ever get out of here. I'm stuck – the fire is outside my bedroom door, so I can't get out. The window's jammed. I hope Gaara got the candy.

* * *

Gaara closed his eyes for a moment. Her last thought, the last ever put on paper, was about him. He couldn't explain this feeling, but it may have been sadness. Was he sad? No, it was something else. He felt sorry for this little girl. He felt somewhat happy, though, in the same way, that someone was thinking about him even in her last thought. He hid the book back in his robes. The book was his now.

He looked back up at the window. He would never be able to forget this girl that he got to know through her secret thoughts in a little, unassuming book found in the charred remains of a house. He couldn't stop thinking about it. There had been a girl whose last thought was about him… the impact hadn't quite reached him yet. He had thought that everyone thought of him with disdain, but then there was someone who thought of him with love in her thoughts. He had heard about love, but this was something even more amazing. He felt so wonderful and so terrible at the same time.

The door suddenly opened, and Gaara's eyes flashed towards the door as a young woman came in with a stack of papers in her hands.

"Lord Gaara?" she asked in a little voice. "Would you mind… er… I have some papers here for you to sign?"

Gaara nodded and headed towards the desk, gesturing for her to put them down there. She hurried forward and immediately dropped the stack of papers. Gaara noticed her awkwardness, which he was used to. People were scared of him, he knew that. He was trying not to let it bother him, but as his eyes scanned the paper, the rhythmic foot tapping, the movement of her hand tapping against her thigh, and the way her eyes kept avoiding his became a little bit unnerving. He quickly signed off the papers and handed them back to her. She took them with a deep bow.

"Thank you very much," she said. "I'm very sorry to bother you." Gaara noticed the pink flush in her cheeks. She turned to go, and Gaara couldn't help but notice her hair, tied up out of the way with a pale pink ribbon that looked faded with age. Gaara wasn't sure, but he had this feeling he couldn't shake. Somehow, miraculously...

"Excuse me," he said. The young lady stopped in her tracks, her blush deepening. She couldn't even turn to face him.

"What is your name?" Gaara asked. The young lady turned around slowly, her gaze stuck on her feet. Her entire face was bright pink, for some reason Gaara could not fathom. She cleared her throat.

"Er… Beh, my lord, spelled 'B-E-H.' It's a strange name, I know," she said. Her eyes finally met Gaara's filled with wonder. The blush that had begun to fade came back in full blast. Gaara smiled slightly and reached into his robes.

"It's nice to meet you, Beh. I think I have something of yours…"

* * *

End


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